The Hearing
by Porlock
Summary: Someone died at Sophie's Department of Mysteries laboratory, and now the only thing that has ever mattered to her is under threat.


The Hearing  
  
Sophie tugged at the lapels of her black trouser suit to straighten it up. She wondered silently whether she shouldn't have worn robes instead. But they were so impractical. She wouldn't have worn them to work, so why now? She checked her ponytail was still neat and secure, and made her way to the single chair in the centre of the room. She surveyed all the authoritative faces which stared back at her.  
  
She watched as a wizard with navy blue robes, a black beard and a bald head made his way to the front of the rows of chairs, and chose the one right in front of her.  
  
'Are we all here?' he asked. He nodded to himself, and stood again.  
  
'Miss Greenwood, I am Mr Fitzgerald, and I am the Minister in charge of conducting all inter-Departmental disciplinary hearings.'  
  
Sophie nodded at him, and the hearing began.  
  
'Miss Greenwood, do you understand why you have been brought before this disciplinary hearing?'  
  
Sophie took a deep breath and tried to remember all the speeches she had spent the night rehearsing and memorising. 'I believe it is because there was tragic accident in one of our laboratories, Minister. Did we know who it was? No-one would tell me'.  
  
'All the witnesses tell us it was Sirius Black, the escaped prisoner. Clearly, he was there with the Death Eaters. He may have been a murderer, but that is not an excuse.' Mr Fitzgerald began to walk around the room, and Sophie's chair. 'Can you tell us why this accident occurred?'  
  
'Yes.' She could handle this. They would not close down her project. 'Unauthorised persons were allowed to enter the laboratory in question.'  
  
'I rather think you are over simplifying the situation. The "unauthorised persons" were being pursued by some of Lord Voldemort's closest allies.'  
  
There was a mumble from the crowd at the mention of Voldemort's name. Sophie swallowed. She should say it, if she had to.  
  
'I do not know the full story, Minister. I am prepared to accept that this was a highly unusual circumstance. The point is that my laboratory is going to be dangerous if someone who is not supposed to be there is in there. That does not make my work dangerous in itself.'  
  
Mr Fitzgerald stopped pacing the room and stood facing Sophie.  
  
'No, Miss Greenwood, it was not dangerous. It was, however, illegal'  
  
Her stomach seemed to fill with lead. 'How can it be illegal? The Department of Mysteries is above legislation, it always has been. We have been left to our own devices, and very often, we conduct the experiments which help you to set legislation.'  
  
'It is true that we usually allow your Department to carry out research into whatever you see fit, but you are not above legislation. The only reason the law does not step in is because the nature of your research is beyond law. But you have been taking advantage of that fact for a long time now.'  
  
'Minister, really.-'  
  
'Miss Greenwood, you know full well that there is only one thing that magic is forbidden to meddle with.'  
  
'We weren't meddling, Minister. We were looking to understand.' That was all. Why were there questions that couldn't be asked? That was the real crime.  
  
'And once you can understand, you can interfere!' His voice was growing louder.  
  
'Do you want to know our findings?' What they had found, what they could say that they officially, conclusively knew, could have been written on the tip of a wand. She knew what was going on; it was proving it that was the problem. But she could tell them something, what they had observed, what they hoped to find. Then how could they dream of shutting her down?  
  
'No, I do not. They shall be destroyed, as will everything in that laboratory.'  
  
'Minister, please!' She sounded desperate. She fought with all her strength to stay in control, but she was losing. 'You can't. We are doing important work, good work.'  
  
'Illegal work'  
  
'We just wanted to understand! Think of the good it could do! What it would mean to understand Death.'  
  
'There is nothing to understand! We all know and understand what happens to us when we die.'  
  
'They are not satisfactory choices!' She didn't want to raise her voice. She cleared her throat, and prepared to answer the next question slowly and calmly.  
  
'We are not here to discuss metaphysics, Miss Greenwood. This is really very simple. You have lead a research project which disobeys one of the oldest wizarding laws in existence, and worse still, a wizard has died because of it.' The Minister's voice had now dropped to a low calm. It chilled her more than his shouting. 'It is my insistence that this particular project be discontinued. All the apparatus will be destroyed, as will the findings, and whilst we cannot hold you responsible for the man's death, I am afraid we will have to suspend you from the Department of Mysteries for the foreseeable future.'  
  
Sophie released a breath which she seemed to have been holding since she began to speak. It was all over.  
  
'Please, Minister', she asked in a tiny voice. 'If you are going to destroy it, will you allow me to visit my laboratory one last time? I have put a lot of time and effort into that project.'  
  
The Minister nodded. 'I will escort you down there now. You are not to take anything. Then it shall be destroyed. This hearing is over.'  
  
Sophie stood and felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes as she followed the Minister out of the room, and down to her laboratory.  
  
Sophie had never known that wizards were susceptible to Muggle diseases. She had never been told either way, she had just never heard of it. Her husband's parents had both died of cancer, but they were Muggles. That, in itself, should have made her think about it. She was with him when they each died, and she held his hand, never once imagining that she would also hold his hand as he, too, was carried away by the same disease. But he did, and she was there, and she felt his hand grow cold in hers as he passed away.  
  
Did the veil he passed through look anything like this one? Did he feel that delicate veil brush his skin as he passed though it?  
  
Sophie remembered staying at her Grandmother's house, shortly after her Grandfather died. She had asked what had happened to him, where he'd gone.  
  
'He's gone home, my darling,' she was told. 'When witches and wizards die, we become part of what we came from. Nature. We become part of the soil, the air, the grass, the trees. The whole world which we live in. He hasn't left us; he's with us more now than he has ever been. You must remember this, my dear. You mustn't think that he is no longer able to take your hand, the truth is, now, he never lets go.'  
  
Her Grandmother kissed her on the forehead, and got up from her chair. Sophie watched her as she made her way into the garden, and stepped out into the cool summer's day. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back to the sky, and took in several deep breaths.  
  
She could imagine that if she actually lived there, with her Grandmother, in the countryside, she could have believed it and been satisfied. When you woke up every morning looking out over rolling green hills and dense forests of trees, you could easily believed that all your loved ones were out there, in the air, in the world, watching over you.  
  
But Sophie lived with her parents, in London. Everything there was so loud and grey and violent. The air there didn't embrace her or caress her, it froze and choked her.  
  
When her husband died, she couldn't believe it any longer. He wouldn't freeze or choke her. He couldn't be out there, part of the world. She knew he wouldn't become a ghost. She couldn't have coped with seeing him every day, having him there, and not be able to touch him, or feel him. It would have killed her. She'd rather not see him at all.  
  
But that meant that there must be another path. That was why she started this project. She informed her team what she wanted to find out, and the next morning the archway had appeared.  
  
She'd been the first one in, all alone with the archway. Immediately, she was mesmerised by the way the black veil fluttered in a breeze that she couldn't feel. She had climbed onto the dais and stepped closer to the archway. She had stretched out a hand and ran it down the rough old stone that ran around it. It was cold with age, but there was a warmth underneath it. It felt full of life. As if it had seen, and taken in, all of history itself. She rested her cheek against the stone. She didn't know why, but it was an irresistible compulsion. The heat and the cold were still there, but there was a sound, also.  
  
At first, it was no more than an indistinct hum, but the more she listened, the more it became clear. There were voices.  
  
Every day after that, she would come in early and listen. She could never quite tell how many voices were there. Two, a hundred, a million? The only thing she could be certain of was that there was more than one, because she could never make out a single word. Sometimes, she thought she heard him, or, at least, caught particular inflexions and peculiarities that were so unique to him. Other times, she would strain to hear him until she felt sick, and there would be nothing. She would talk to him. She didn't know if he could hear her, or if he ever replied, but it didn't matter.  
  
But there were still those times she did. And that was when she knew what she had believed all along. He was there, somewhere, waiting for her, along with her Grandfather, and that dead Death Eater. They were all there, waiting for their loved ones to join them. They reached her laboratory and saw that it was a mess. The stone seats had huge chips taken out of them, and files were strewn across the floor. Some of them were bloodstained. She hadn't been here since the fight had taken place.  
  
'What happened here?' she asked.  
  
The Minister shook his head. 'Incredible things. You will hear about it soon enough, I am sure. I will go and fill in the necessary paperwork, and then I will back. Please remember that every item in this room has been placed under a Containment charm, so you will be unable to remove anything from here.'  
  
Sophie nodded and waited for him to leave. When he had, she made her way heavily down the stone steps and clambered onto the dais. The tattered black veil fluttered as surely as it ever had. The stones were still cold to the touch and yet radiated friendly warmth. She leant a cheek against the stone, and placed a hand upon it, like she used to do against her husband's chest.  
  
'I'm sorry,' she whispered, through the veil and through her tears. 'I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm sorry. I wish I could have found out where you have gone, and I wish I could have brought you back. I wish I could have let everyone know that you are all there waiting, but I think our time has run out.'  
  
She straightened herself and took one last look at the archway. It looked like the oldest thing that had ever existed. It looked as if it had seen everything that had ever happened. It was beautiful, and the fluttering veil made her feel like she was in a welcoming breeze.  
  
It hurt her heart to think that the only way she could now conclusively know whether her guesses were correct would also not allow her to tell anyone else. But she would know. She could find him, and tell him she was looking.  
  
She stretched out a shaking hand towards the veil, and felt cool air rush over it. The veil moved so softly, almost beckoning her in.  
  
'Miss Greenwood!' The Minister shouted, re-entering the room. 'I think you have had enough time now. Let's be going, please.'  
  
She quickly withdrew her hand, and backed away from the archway. She climbed off of the dais, up the stone steps, and to the door where the Minister stood.  
  
'What went on in here should never have happened,' he said solemnly, and raised his wand. 'Evanesco Totalus!'  
  
A cool blue flame shot from the Minister's wand and engulfed the room. Then, as soon as it had appeared, it vanished, as had the dais, the paperwork, the archway, the veil, and the whispering voices.  
  
Sophie followed the Minister from the room, and made her way slowly home, desperately hoping that her husband was still waiting for her beyond the veil. 


End file.
